Getting a Technology System in Modern Day

Economy, often called the backbone of any society, is what enables a reliable and predictable exchange of goods and services, freeing individuals from the burden of producing everything they need to survive. In civilizations as vast and varied as those of the Conclave, its importance could not be overstated. Leaders, whether elected, inherited, or self-installed, understood this better than anyone. Their longevity, popularity, and sometimes their very lives depended on the health of the economy.

This understanding was not merely theoretical. Whether to secure reelection, avoid public backlash, appease influential supporters, or, in harsher regimes, dodge ritual sacrifice or exile, rulers would go to great lengths to maintain upward economic trends. That imperative often overrode ideology, loyalty, or long-term strategy. It was a force of compulsion, one so powerful that even seasoned leaders sometimes made decisions they fundamentally disagreed with, simply to keep the numbers green.

Now, that very force had begun to dictate the decisions, or the lack thereof, across the Conclave.

It started with the loss of territory. When several member civilizations lost valuable star systems, the reaction was almost unanimous: retaliate. Their leadership posts, economic privileges, and influence were at stake. But when the Bilakis civilization needlessly antagonized the Terran Empire, a more dangerous precedent was set. The Empire responded not with bullets, but with economic pressure.

Specifically, they shut down the Bilakis wormhole lanes, choking the flow of goods between star systems. The Bilakis economy, which had just begun implementing deeper interstellar integration, spiraled downward. Initially, they tried to contain the damage. But containment wasn't a cure, and as weeks passed, it became clear that the disruption was only a symptom. The disease lay in their growing dependency on interconnected mana routes and movements of goods from cheap places to expensive ones, both of which were now obstructed.

Other Conclave members, while not directly punished, took note as aşhtough they knew the level the control and laverge was having upon them through the wormhole network the amount of economic upward trend these wormholes were providing was something never seen in millennials forcing majority of them to turn a blind eye on the belief that so long as they don't cause problem against the empire the empire will continue honoring thier side of the agreement as they had always done. And as a result, many of them had been more cautious, refraining from accusing the Empire outright in the aftermath of the pirate wormhole attacks.

Then came a second, even more destabilizing blow: the Empire-backed Dreznor's viral address condemning slavery.

The speech exploded across Conclave networks, igniting fury, fervor, and factions. The economic consequences were fast and unavoidable. Companies tied in any way to slavery, whether through labor, logistics, trade, or even indirect investment, saw their stocks plummet as people made their feelings known both verbally and economically as markets convulsed and social pressure mounted.

The movement against slavery was no longer fringe; it had momentum, media presence, and funding. And it was winning.

With all these variables in play, Conclave leaders found themselves paralyzed. The question of how to deal with the Terran Empire was no longer just a matter of politics or pride. It was now deeply entangled with the survival of their economies, the kind that, should they fail to deal with it fast and adequately enough, could cause damage from within.

"I'm suggesting we proceed with our planned campaign," one of the leaders proposed, his voice measured but firm. "We act as if we know nothing of the Dreznor situation for now, start hoarding manastones immediately, and prepare for a retaliatory strike on the Empire once we've dealt with Dreznor."

Another scoffed. "You want us to pretend ignorance in front of a known enemy? Where's your dignity? Or are you prepared to let them use this delay to amass strength? If we give them time, they will fortify. And when we do strike, it will be a harder, bloodier battle."

"They'll never catch up to us militarily," a third argued. "They're a two-star-system empire. That's it, and no matter how fast their production speed is, they will never match us, even if we wait for a century. The only reason they held us off last time was because we were forced to limit our offensive to a single front. Mana shortages constrained how many ships we could send. But now? We can mobilize more. And we know there are two systems, not one as we previously thought, so we can hit both simultaneously, split their already forces, and crush them once we are done with Dreznor."

"And how do you plan to reach those systems?" another challenged. "Our access is still restricted. We only have the absolute mana coordinates that they and Xalthar had given us. Without more, we can't move freely within their territory and keep in mind they have the ability to block opening wormholes inside their territories, and we don't know the extent of this capability."

"If we strike too soon," a more cautious voice said, "they'll retaliate economically again. And this time it won't just be the Bilakis. Our mana supply lines will shrink. Reserves will dwindle. Mobilization on this scale won't be sustainable. We'll burn out before we make real gains."

"And what of Dreznor?" a senior delegate asked. "What if he uses the distraction to regroup, with the Empire's bottomless manastone supply behind him? If we weaken ourselves economically and militarily, we may hand him the perfect opportunity to push back. What then?"

The room fell into frustrated silence. The arguments weren't born of cowardice or ignorance but of reality. The Empire had proven its capabilities in both warfare and statecraft to some extent. Their retaliations weren't wild swings as they were always calculated, targeted, and devastating. And while the Conclave had found a common enemy in Dreznor and the empire, the unity it should have brought never materialized.

Because the Conclave was not a single civilization. It was a council of many, with each leader having their own economy, culture, and priorities. Some leaders faced insurrections at home, and others had fragile coalitions barely holding together. A few feared financial collapse more than military defeat. None of them were willing to place their own crises on hold while others had their problems prioritized.

Thus, as the minutes and hours passed, decisions remained gridlocked. They couldn't afford war with the empire while still fighting Dreznor, but they couldn't afford acting ignorant either. Each option came with a cost no one wanted to bear first. And the longer they hesitated, the more control slipped from their hands.